


For the Relief or Unbearable Urges

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 14:57:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16120892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I wrote this as a Kink meme fill that wanted older Cas (around early 30s) tweaking underage Dean's (older than 15) nipples and sucking on them til milk comes out. Dean getting off to Cas's deep voice saying dirty things how Dean is such a slut and would do anything as long as he gets his tits sucked and played with. Cas getting off to slutty Dean is also welcomedWarnings:  This story contains underage lactation kink and dubious levels of consent. You have been warned.





	For the Relief or Unbearable Urges

Castiel Novak looked at the crumbling brick facade of the Sacred Heart Home for Boys for the first, and hopefully, the only time. If all went as planned, he would be bringing home the boy as promised over the phone. 

The Home seemed eerily quiet for mid-day, for an institution dedicated to the shelter of children, Cas thought, as he walked in the deep quiet of its hallways, his oxfords loud, clattering even, on the marbled linoleum. The walls were painted an institutional green, unrelieved by any hints that children were housed here, except when he came across a large statue of Jesus with a child on his lap. On the wall behind the statue was the quote, in block capitals, "Suffer the little children to come onto me."

Cas found the office easily enough, just past the Jesus statue and after preliminary discussions and introductions with the staff, Cas found himself sitting in the office of Elinor Visyak herself.

After touching on this and that, Ms. Visyak finally got down to business. "I understand you're looking for an Omega to bring home."

"That is correct," Castiel said. 

"I feel I must warn you, because not everyone understands. The average male Omega is only a pseudo Omega. They suffer the same heats, but the pregnancy that results is only a false pregnancy. A brief, hormonal event, rather than an actual conception. If you're wishing to find an Omega to make your wife and create children with, then I would steer you to our sister institution across town, the Our Lady of the Angels Home. There are, of course, fully fertile Omega males, but they're rare."

"No, that is unnecessary," Castiel said. He furrowed his brow a moment. He'd been led to understand that it had been all arranged over the phone already. That his needs had been made clear and that there was a suitable boy at this institution waiting to meet him. "I have no desire for a fully fertile Omega. Children would be an unwelcome complication, especially at first."

"Excellent, I just need to make sure everyone is clear before we proceed," She said. 

''There is just one thing I need to be sure of. He is able to to lactate, yes?"

"Absolutely," she said. "All Omegas do. He's in milk now. He's not on the suppressors."

She tucked a stray strand of graying blond hair behind her ear. She stood up from the desk, tugged down her jacket. She talked as she led him down the hallway, "Let's go meet your Omega then. When his father was killed in an accident a few months ago, he was brought here recently, with his younger brother. They're a package deal, I'm afraid. The Omega is still nursing his younger brother and they refuse to wean him. Still, I think you'll find it worth putting up with the younger for the charms of the elder."

Castiel stopped dead where he stood. "I was not informed about this younger brother. That does not meet my terms as we discussed on the telephone. One Omega boy, fifteen to sixteen, able to lactate, on the verge of his maturity, but still virginal. I have no use for a young Alpha."

Brothers always alternated genders. If the older was an Omega, his younger brother would be an Alpha, or vice versa. Unless it was a family of Betas, of course. 

"Unusually, the younger brother is an Omega as well. Delightful boy really. I could have placed either of them separately on days of their arrival except for their insistence on remaining together. As I said, their father died recently, in an auto accident. Their mother died years ago, in a house fire and they were raised by their father. Which brings them here. Dean, that's the elder's name, is fifteen, but turning sixteen next month. He's definitely a virgin. The younger is Sam. He's eleven. He's quite, shy and studious. Except for when one is trying to separate the two."

Castiel did not yet begin walking yet, though the headmistress of the orphanage clearly wanted to hustle him along. He wasn't quite sure what he should do in this situation. He decidedly had intended to bring home one boy today. He could not afford two. Recent state laws had been passed intending to place in homes the glut of older Omegas that filled up orphanages like this one. Omegas weren't wanted, not by Beta families which formed the majority, and that made up most of the people who wanted to adopt. They'd loosened restrictions on who could adopt an Omega, what due diligence needed to be completed before the adoption was allowed, and reduced the costs involved. Also, rules had been relaxed on the other ways an older Omega could be taken out of the system. Like the way Castiel intended to take this boy away.

He could just barely afford the fees and bribes for one boy, especially with Ms. Visyak's special costs. Yes, the whole system had been made vulnerable to people like Ms. Visyak and himself. What he intended to do with the boy once he got him home was never intended by the drafters of those amended adoption laws, but it was the logical and inevitable consequence of the new laws and the main reason someone might want a teenaged Omega. 

The woman seemed to understand his hesitation, "Because we won't be able to separate the boys and because we're in need of the space, it will be the same fee for both boys. He really is stunning, the older boy. Precisely the kind of Omega you described to me over the phone. Just looking for a firm but kind Alpha hand to guide him."

"I could at least meet the boys," Castiel conceded. "Since I have come all this way."

"You will not be disappointed," said the woman. She turned to lead the way, bringing them into a solarium or greenhouse style room, with many windows, tile floors, many flowering plants and sparse furniture, including one wrought iron bench, on which sat two boys.

They were dressed in the worn clothing you would expect a child of the orphanage to wear, uniforms from the look of them. They were matching plaid shirts in orange and blue, faded, buttoned up to the chin and with long buttoned sleeves, they were were paired with equally faded navy blue chino pants. The younger boy looked at Cas briefly, just long enough that Cas had an impression of bangs hanging in his eyes and the potential for great beauty, but then the younger boy buried his face against the older's breast. He slipped open the buttons of the older boy's shirt, hands fast, and took the older's breast into his mouth and suckled. Castiel had to stop and catch his breath. Everything, all his clothes, seemed too tight. The older boy clutched the younger boy tightly to himself, not discouraging the clinging at all. letting the younger nurse even in front of a stranger. 

This boy was already the great beauty that had been described to Castiel over the phone. His lips were perfect bows of pink, his skin pale with a smattering of darker freckles across the cheeks and nose. The boy's hair was pale brown with flashes of golden highlights here and there. His eyes were a green as deep and pure as an emerald, with smoky, thick lashes around them. Those eyes were almost so dark that Cas thought they were brown until he stepped closer and looked the boy directly in the face. Then defiance flashed in his eyes and he clutched his younger brother more tightly to him, as if daring them to take him away.

"Dean, Sam," Ms. Visyak said. "This is Castiel Novak. He's come to meet you both, like we discussed earlier today. Castiel, these are Dean and Sam Winchester. The older boy is Dean. I'll just leave you all here to chat for a while and get to know each other better."

Castiel found a chair in curlicued wrought iron that matched the bench and pulled it up to sit down. It was every bit as uncomfortable as it had looked, so Cas found himself perching on the edge, not daring to lean back on it again. The older boy just stared at him as the headmistress walked away, her footsteps echoing on the tile. Sam kept nursing.

It was not that he was nervous, because he wasn't. It was not that he was scared. But Castiel didn't have anything to say, because he wasn't prepared. He hadn't expected he'd be required to make small talk with the boy before bringing him home. It wasn't as if he expected to just pick him up like he was a loaf of bread at the store, but he'd thought the headmistress would remain, to facilitate their discussion.

"I understand you lost your father recently, I am sorry for that," Castiel said. "I lost my own father some years ago."

"Your dad died too?" asked Dean. There was something, like a flash of hope on Dean's face, like he thought that Castiel would understand him somehow. Even the little bit of light turned Dean's face from merely rather pretty to an illuminated beauty. If this boy were ever truly happy again, Castiel muses, he would be incandescent, have the face of a saint, or perhaps, rather, the face of one of those pagan goddesses in the old masters paintings.

"No, we just lost him. He abandoned my brothers and sisters and myself and we have not seen him since."

Dean's expression grew wary again, closed off, the light hidden, like under the proverbial basket. "You have brothers, at least," he said. "You understand why I can't let anyone separate me from Sammy here."

"I understand your concern," Castiel said, but he really didn't. His siblings had all been much older than him and they had been eager enough to leave him behind when their chances came. "Perhaps it would be the kinder choice to let him go, Dean Winchester. So that he stands a chance getting adopted by a family, and not taken by someone like myself, for purposes like my own."

"I don't know about kindness or not. All I know is that I promised my Dad I'd always take care of him. You can do anything you want to me, so long as I can keep Sam with me."

Castiel did not think of himself as a cruel man. He thought of himself as fair and even tempered. It was just that he had certain needs and Dean was the most efficient, perhaps even, only, way to satisfy those needs. Sam was an innocent, and yes, if he remained here, without Dean, he'd probably get adopted sooner rather than later, but that was no guarantee, nor was it a guarantee that the adoption wasn't just a front for something worse. He made a decision, sudden, even head spinning. It was, almost certainly, a mistake. All his quick decisions like this were, but his mind was set. He had to have the older boy, by any means.

"I propose a bargain. If you come with me, do everything I ask of you, willingly and without protest, Sam will come with us. I will adopt him as a son. I will not ask him to do the things I will ask of you. I will protect him. He will go to school, then college if he wishes, or he learn a trade, or perhaps just make a good marriage on his own time." 

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"You don't know," Castiel admitted. "But I have the papers right here, drawn up by Ms. Visyak, allowing me to take you with me. You can come with your brother or you can come alone, but you will come with me."

So Dean had nodded, cast his eyes down and said, "Okay. If you take good care of Sam, I'll do it." 

Castiel went to find Ms. Visyak and make arrangements for the payment of a rather sizable sum of money, all that he had been able to save for many years. She gave him the papers that gave him sole physical custody of both of the boys and everything else he would need to finalize both the adoption of Sam and his plans for Dean.

The boys came back a short while later with all their things. Both of the boys' paltry possessions fit inside the same small backpack, which Dean carried. The boys didn't leave naked, but the only clothes they left the orphanage with were the ones on they'd arrived in. The uniforms they were wearing had to remain. Again, another cost that Castiel had not anticipated. He would now have to go out and purchase two entire wardrobes of suitable clothes for the boys. Immediately. Because there were rusty brown splotched stains on both the boys' shirts that made him suspect that they had been there, had been part of the auto accident that had killed their father. It looked like blood stains that had never fully been washed out. 

"You have no other clothes than what you're wearing?" he asked as they walked back to Castiel's car.

They shook their heads, then Dean added, "The car with all our stuff caught fire. And kind of exploded."

"Were you hurt in the accident?" he asked them on the way out to the car.

"Cuts, bruises, nothing bad. We were both in the back seat and it was a head on collision," Dean said. Sam had yet to say a thing. "It was an old car. The steering wheel crushed his chest. We got Dad out before the Impala caught fire, but he still died."

Castiel winced. His Honda Accord, like all modern cars, had crumple zones and collapsable steering column. Air bags. Depending on how old the car had been, it might not even have three point seat belts. 

"I am sorry," he said, knowing just how little that meant. Both of the boys scowled as their only answer. They piled into his car with no comment, though Sam was visibly shaking and white knuckled. He clicked himself into his seat belt in the back seat without a word and stared down at his feet. Dean tried to join Sam in the back seat, so Castiel said, "Up here with me, Dean. You're my Omega now."

So Dean took the front passenger seat with only one defiant glare. It was a long, silent, uncomfortable car ride. Dean wouldn't speak, nor would Sam. Dean stared down at his knees, tracing the outlines of a blood stain with his finger, until they pulled into the Walmart parking lot in Castiel's town, about an hour later. 

"You both need new clothes," Castiel said. "We don't have a lot of time or a lot of money."

"What's my budget?" Dean asked. 

Castiel hadn't really thought about that. He desperately hated things that were not anticipated and planned for. Anything unplanned made him ill, made the pit of his stomach churn. He hated things that were messy. He should have known that bringing this boy into his life would make it messy. Other people were messy. Complicated. 

"A hundred dollars. Each," he said. It wasn't a lot, but two hundred dollars was exactly the play in his weekly budget, after bills, savings, other expenses. He liked nice, whole, round numbers like that. 

"Over there then," Dean said, indicating another building off the same huge parking lot. It was a Goodwill store. "I can get what we need for a hundred dollars for the both of us."

He spoke, not so much confidently, but as if speaking from experience, as if he'd done this sort of thing before. 

"We moved around a lot. Dad didn't have steady work. We sometimes had to skip town because we couldn't pay the bills," Dean said. "Had to leave everything but the clothes on our backs more than once."

Then he added, "This isn't the first time we've started from nothing."

Dean had been right. Half an hour later, the boy was walking out of the Goodwill with three bags stuff full of clothes. He'd come in under his proposed budget even. It was, providentially, half price jeans day. 

"Change into a clean clothes," Castiel told the boys. "I don't want you wearing the stained ones."

Dean changed right in the parking lot, no shame. Sam hid behind Dean and neither said anything, nor would he change. Castiel wondered if some trauma had happened to Sam beyond the accident. And being taken away from the orphanage by a stranger who had said outright that he intended to use his older brother. 

Their next stop was the church and thankfully, they were no more than two minutes late for the appointment Castiel had made with the pastor.

"What're we going to the church for? You gotta pray before you dehymenate me?" Dean asked. Dean had no illusions about why he had been taken out of the orphanage, even if he wasn't entirely correct in his presumptions. He was close, just missing one crucial detail.

"The wedding, Dean," Castiel said. 

"What wedding?"

"Ours. I am not taking you to be my...plaything. I'm taking you to wife. Fornication is a sin," Castiel said. 

"Woah, there," Dean said, holding up his hands. "I didn't sign up for that gig. That shit's til death do us part. I'm sticking around until Sam grows up, no longer."

"Language, Dean. I expect my wife and my Omega to keep a clean tongue in his mouth, except when he's in my bed."

"I'm not going to be your wife," Dean said. "I told you, this ain't forever for me."

"Then if you feel you must, you may leave me when you feel our arrangement has come to an end, but until then, you agreed to do everything I require of you and I require you to wear my ring and have our union blessed by the Church."

"So you're just going to drag some kid you basically bought in front of your priest and he's going to be okay with that? He's knows what you're doing with me?"

"He encouraged me. The Pastor says that it is better to marry than to burn. That I could get relief for certain unbearable...urges. I intend to take care of you and your brother, Dean. I intend to be good to you, other than the use I will make of you in bed. I don't believe it will be bad to be married to me. I have a home, steady employment, additional freelance work besides. The schools in my community, where Sam would be attending, are excellent. Think of what you would be gaining for your brother if you accept my proposal."

Dean's eyes widened slightly and he looked back at Sam, slouched over in the back seat, trying to pretend that more than anything, he was not hearing this conversation, not hearing his brother negotiate the terms to sell his body for the benefit of his younger brother. Dean swallowed hard, obviously thinking about what he was doing, what he was about to agree to. 

"You promise you won't touch Sam?" he asked again.

"Never," Castiel said.

"You won't try and stop him from nursing? He still needs it, especially after the accident."

"I have no intention of stopping your lactation, Dean."

"Okay, I'll do it," Dean said. He unclicked his seatbelt and popped out of the car. Then he fussed with Sam. "Hey, I need you to get changed, Sam. I guess I'm getting married and you don't want to be at my wedding in blood stained clothes, do you?"

Sam shook his head, still silent. Then he whispered something at Dean, so quietly that there wasn't a chance Castiel could hear.

"I don't think we have time, dude," Dean answered. "We'll do it later. I promise. Let's get you dressed."

***

Dean stared at the dude he was going to be marrying in a few minutes. The guy looked like an accountant, but sort of like an accountant who'd spent the night sleeping at his desk. He wore a beige trench coat that he finally set aside once they were talking to the priest, a black suit, white shirt and a black tie that wasn't tied quite right and was worn kind of loose. He had dark brown hair that was kind of tousled and looked like it might be kind of curly if it had been longer. His eyes though, those were kind of beautiful. They were the clearest, deepest blue eyes Dean had ever seen. And he had this gorgeous, scratchy, deep voice. It was like whiskey and honey poured over rusty nails and broken glass. Like normally you'd have to smoke two packs a day for life to get a voice like that, but on him it didn't seem acquired somehow. It was just his voice and it was one that set Dean on a kind of edge. Normally people didn't affect Dean, especially since the accident. It was like he was set apart from all of humanity except Sam somehow, but this guy? It seemed like he was stomping right through Dean's walls. 

Guy was a freak though. What kind of guy bought his wife from the local orphanage? Dean had been kind of prepared for the guy wanting sex. Dean had been ready to whore himself out for a couple of years if it meant Sam would have a better life than Dean. Five, six, maybe seven years and Sam would be able to find a mate, a good one, not some freak who couldn't get a mate unless he bought one. This Castiel had mentioned college for Sam, or a trade, but Dean didn't disillusion himself on that one. Omegas didn't go to college. No one would hire an Omega for a trade job if he could get an Alpha or a Beta to do the job. But a good husband for Sam, that was possible. 

A few minutes later, Dean was standing in front of a guy dressed in all black except for the little white collar and all he had to do was say, "I do" a couple of times and sign a piece of paper. Castiel put a plain gold ring on Dean's finger. Then that was that. He was a wife. They didn't even kiss. Castiel went to go pray up by the altar of the small, plain little church and Dean and Sam found a quiet corner where Dean could take Sam into his arms, unbutton his shirt and let Sam have a quick comfort nurse. 

Omegas didn't normally start lactating until adolescence, but they had milk so they could help feed their siblings and Sam had lost their mom early, at only six months. Even though Dean had been just a wee thing of four himself, something had woken in him at the sound of Sam's broken hearted cries. His chest had sprouted tiny little breasts and filled with milk for his brother. Sam had been nursing on Dean ever since. Sam had stopped needing the milk for nutrition long ago, but Dean still let him nurse whenever he wanted for comfort. Strange as it sounded, it felt good to be Sam's human security blanket. Then the accident happened and it was just them together against the world. Sam had needed him more than ever. Their Dad gone and their home, the Impala, destroyed, Sam had been devastated. There was a month or so there where Sam had refused to eat, where the only calories Sam had taken in were ones he'd nursed out of Dean. It wasn't as bad now. Sam had had a little time to readjust, but he was still nursing way more than a boy his age should. Dean didn't have it in him to cut Sam off. 

By the time Castiel was done with his praying and came to collect them, Sam had been done nursing. Dean had done his shirt back up and just held a sleepy Sam in his arms. Dean forced his drowsing brother to his feet and made him walk back to the car. 

"Is your brother well?" Castiel asked, sounding worried. 

Dean understood. Sam was well past the age of needing an afternoon nap, at least a normal boy his age would be. "He doesn't sleep real well at night," Dean explained. "He gets these nightmares. He was up for half of last night."

"Oh," Castiel said. His voice was gravelly, but he seemed so tight lipped. How the hell was Dean going to make it through the next six or seven years if they could hardly talk to each other now? 

It wasn't far to Castiel's house from the church. You could walk it easily, in fact. It was a nice house, in a nice neighborhood. It was an old neighborhood. The trees were tall and in the summer, they'd shade the orderly, well-kept houses set into broad lawns. Now though, their branches were bare, reaching up for the gray sky with skinny fingers of dark brown. The clouds looked thick and heavy. There was that certain frosty smell in the air. It would be snowing before too long, Dean thought. Couple of hours at most. 

Castiel's home was a two-story brick house, too big for a single man by far. Everything was squared off, no extra decoration, no fancy stone work, just simple, plain, and practical. Castiel pulled into the drive way, parked in the garage in back. It was a two car garage, the other bay kept almost empty. Unlike most people who had that extra space, Castiel did not fill it clutter. He led them into the house by a side entrance that let into a plain white kitchen. From there, Castiel showed them the upstairs and specifically, to one of the four bedrooms. It had a pair of twin beds set up in it, perfectly made with crisply ironed sheets and old-fashioned white chenille bedspreads that were draped just so.

"Sam can have this room," Castiel said. "I wasn't anticipating a second boy, so I don't have anything ready. The other two spare rooms don't have beds. This is my guest room. I suppose we could change out the paint and bedspreads for something more suitable for a young boy."

"It's fine," Dean said. "I'll get Sam settled into a nap and then I'll come to you. I assume you wanna get started right away."

Castiel nodded and turned away. He walked back downstairs, leaving Dean alone with Sam for the moment. 

"You gonna be okay?" Dean asked as he helped Sam pull off his shoes. Not that Sam needed the help, but Dean liked to do it and Sam was really sleepy right now. 

"I don't like it, Dean," Sam said. "That man. He's going to do things to you."

"We don't have a choice, Sam," Dean said. "I'm his wife now. The orphanage was gonna sell me to someone as soon as they could. At least this way, they don't sell you separate from me. This Castiel guy, he's kind of a freak, but I trust him that he's not going to touch you. He means that."

"Yeah, he's not lying," Sam said. "I still don't like him."

"You don't have to like him," Dean said. "Just take a nap and stay in the room even if you wake up. Even if you hear noises. This guy's probably going to want to, you know."

He didn't say it. Couldn't say it. But the guy was probably going to want to fuck him right away. Take his virginity, which was, in some ways, the only coin an Omega had that was worth trading it. Dean just hoped to hell that he'd gotten a good enough bargain for his. If Castiel kept to his word and didn't touch Sam and helped Sam make a good marriage, then Dean would have considered that a good enough bargain, no matter how much he himself had to suffer. Sam laid down and closed his eyes, so Dean patted him on the head and brushed the too long bangs out of his eyes.

Then he went in search of Castiel, who he found in the kitchen, fussing with a cake, getting it out of the box from the bakers.

"Why the cake?" Dean asked. It was a small round cake, but it was pure white with a fancy, scrolled design piped on it, also in white. 

"Our wedding cake," Castiel said. "It is traditional to have cake. It's symbolic."

Jesus, what a freak. He was acting like this was some kind of real marriage, not what it was at all- a sham. That he hadn't just bought an Omega from an orphanage and said meaningless words in front of some guy in a black suit. But Castiel had already gotten out a couple of small plates and small forks. There was a bottle of what Dean thought was champagne at first, but turned out to be sparkling cider, and the skinny glasses that were shaped like for champagne. It was weird, being in a place that didn't just have nice plates, glasses and silverware, but had them for specific purposes. Dean didn't remember living in a place this nice ever. The few times they'd rented a house for a while, their glasses were plastic cups from fast food places, their plates paper plates. 

Castiel noticed Dean checking out the sparkling cider bottle. He explained, "I don't drink alcohol. And you are underage."

"Awesome, I'm old enough for you to marry and take my virginity, but not old enough for a drink. That's bullshit," Dean said. When he noticed that Castiel was glaring at him. "Right. You expect me to talk like a schoolmarm, except in your bed, when I'm supposed to talk like a whore. That's bullshit. You know, I'm wearing your ring, but I totally didn't vow to obey you. I'm your wife, not your little Stepford toy."

Castiel looked up in surprise from the cake he was cutting, "I am your husband and your Alpha."

"And I'm nobody's good little Omega," Dean countered. "I wasn't raised like any Omega you've ever met. So forget the damn cake and let's go upstairs and get to the fucking part of the evening."

Yeah, he was being brazen, but it was the only straw he could grasp at. He could put on a brave, bold face. That was the one defense he had left. Everything else had forsaken him when the Impala had crashed, killing his father, stranding him and Sam in a system that seemed designed to exploit Omegas. Now, Dean had to figure out how navigate in these strange, new waters. He had to keep this guy's attention entirely on him, not even let him think about turning his eye to the other young, virginal Omega he had in the household. 

Castiel let the knife in his hands clatter down to the countertop. They were stone. Dean was now living in a house with damn granite countertops. This guy wasn't rich, but he did all right by himself. Dean sure as hell was going to get some nicer clothes for Sam out of the guy than the Goodwill specials he'd loaded up on earlier. 

"Now. Upstairs," Castiel growled. 

Dean gasped in a little breath. There was just something about that voice of his. It was low, whiskey deep and reminded Dean, oddly, of the rumble that the Impala used to make as it prowled on the back roads and state highways that Dad favored. Dean felt a strange tingle in his...parts. His dick was paying attention too. Not that Dean was any stranger to the feel of his own hand on his dick, but this was the first time he'd really felt arousal in his female parts.

"I thought you wanted to eat cake," Dean said, drawing a finger through the icing on the cake, slowly, then put that finger into his mouth sucked it as provocatively as he could. He didn't actually like cake, and especially not icing. It was too sweet, too rich. Give him pie any time. 

"Forget the cake," Castiel said and he pushed Dean back against the counter. He grabbed Dean's shirt at the placket and pulled it apart, ripping the buttons right off. They popped off and bounced across the tile floor, scattering all over the room. Castiel tugged Dean's shirt half way off baring his chest and shoulders, then put his hands on Dean's tiny little tits. 

He squeezed, gently at first, and tweaked the nipples, making Dean moan as the feeling seemed to shoot straight down to his pussy. It felt amazing. He had thought he wouldn't want anyone to touch his breasts sexually, that it would just feel like how it felt to nurse Sammy, which is to say, nice, but it never stirred anything in him. This though, wasn't anything like that. It was like he was being set on fire by Castiel's squeezing, demanding hands. He could feel a familiar heat rising through his body, burning his cheeks, putting all other thoughts but more and need to sleep for the moment.

And then Castiel put his mouth on Dean's left nipple and suckled, pulling milk out of Dean's breast. His hand was on the right nipple, tugging it, rolling it in his fingers. "Oh, God. More," Dean cried out, unable to stop himself. "Please."

"You say I want you to be a whore for me," Castiel said, lifting his mouth of Dean's nipple. "But it seems like you are a whore already. Such a little slut. You love my mouth on your tits."

It was like Castiel's deep voice just set off some kind of reaction in Dean, one that was at once familiar, but one that wasn't like anything he'd ever felt before. "Yes, please," Dean said, not really finding any other words in his vocabulary at the moment. 

"Go, upstairs, to our bedroom," Castiel ordered him. "Strip your clothes off and wait for me."

"Yes, Sir," Dean said. 

Damn. Dean had always said he wasn't going to be one of those Omegas. The kind that spread their legs obediently for the first knothead that spoke to them in a commanding tone. It was almost like his body had decided that this Alpha was his mate. His true mate. His feet were walking away and up the stairs without needing the intervening permission of his conscious mind. There was an aching, emptiness in his gut and he felt weak and hot. Shit. This wasn't going to be anything he could walk away from after a couple of years like he planned. This was the real thing and that scared the hell out of Dean. His heat was starting and that meant one thing.

 

***

Castiel's hands were shaking as he placed the slightly mutilated cake back into its' bakers box. He hesitated as he contemplated the pros and cons of putting the cake into the refrigerator versus leaving it on the counter, then just threw the whole thing into the trash. The impulse behind it was far more ruined than the cake. 

This wasn't turning out like he pictured in the slightest. He'd pictured a docile, shy, pretty young Omega, grateful for having been rescued from the orphanage and as chaste as he was virginal. He would have to be slowly coaxed into Castiel's bed. Instead, the Omega he'd gotten met only one of those qualifications- he was pretty. But he was also in turns surly, withdrawn, aggressive, mouthy and decidedly not chaste. Castiel had found himself saying things to the Omega he never would imagined himself saying. And yes, he'd known he would suckle on Dean's breasts, but he'd never imagined doing in quite such a wanton manner. He'd stripped the boy half naked right in the middle of the kitchen, pressed up against the island, with the shades open, so any neighbor could look right in. He twisted the little stick that turned the wood slats of the shades to nearly completely shut, then neatened every little thing that was out of place. He wiped down counters that didn't need it and swept up invisible crumbs off the hardwood floor until he could find no more imaginary dirt and could no longer put off facing Dean and his own wild desires.

Everything in its place, Castiel climbed the stairs. The door to the guest room, now Sam's room, was still shut and no noise at all came from the room. With luck, the young boy would still be sleeping and not pretending to be sleeping at his brother's order. The door to the master bedroom was cracked slightly open. 

The room was far more than Castiel had needed. Honestly, his first impluse had been to take one of the smaller back bedrooms for his own, but this room did have the commanding view of the front yard and down the street, well shaded by the oak trees out front in the summer and letting the last of the silvery afternoon light in during the winter months. 

Dean had done as he'd said. The Omega had stripped off all his clothes and he was lying, prone on top of the covers, shivering. Shaking. No, the boy was crying. Castiel was very much tempted to just back out of the room, shut the door behind him and let the boy be for this rest of the night. It was too much. He was asking too much out of the boy. They would have their first night together some other time. 

As Castiel was about to step away, Dean spoke, his voice rough with tears, "What are you waiting for? Get over here, damn it. I need you."

So Castiel entered his own bedroom with no small amount of trepidation. He sat down on the bed near Dean and laid a hand softly on the boy's back. The boy was hot. 

"You're ill!" Castiel said, alarmed at how fast the fever had arisen. Earlier in the kitchen, just twenty-three minutes ago, the boy had been a normal temperature. 

"Not ill," Dean said, snappishly. "Going into heat. I need you."

"Heat?" Castiel repeated dumbly. "But Ms. Visyak said you just finished your quarterly heat and weren't due for a few months."

Dean whispered something into his pillow, fast and unintelligible. 

"What?"

"I said, you're my mate. Omegas go into heat when they're touched by their true mate," Dean said, rolling up to look directly into Castiel's eyes. His eyes flashed angry for a moment, then they grew kind of limpid with more unshed tears. He breathed heavily. "Need you, Cas. Damn it. It hurts. Don't make me wait."

Castiel shed his clothes as quickly as he could, making sure to shut the door behind him and lock it as well. It would not do to have the little brother burst in for any reason. He'd never mated an Omega in heat before, but his body seemed to know what to do. He could feel his penis begin to swell, his arousal begin to grow. It already seemed a different kind of arousal, more, somehow than just his shameful fumblings- his own few ventures into masturbation. 

He laid on the bed next to Dean and breathed in deeply. Yes, this close, he could smell the rising sweetness of an Omega going into heat. He pulled Dean to him and sniffed the crook of his neck. He took no responsibility for what happened next. It was like someone other creature wore his body. 

***

Castiel smelled Dean deeply, then sunk his teeth into the skin right at the crook of Dean's neck. The bite was hard enough to break skin and bring blood to the surface and it hurt like a motherfucker, but somehow that didn't distract Dean from the need for Castiel, from his arousal. Castiel licked at the drips of blood delicately, then said, his voice so low that Dean almost didn't hear it, "Mine."

Dean couldn't respond except by opening his legs further, an invitation. He didn't just feel hot all over, but it was like his body had turned into some simmering liquid barely contained inside the surface tension of his skin. There was a void, an emptiness inside him that could only be filled by one thing. This was a real heat, Dean thought. The couple of heats he'd had before were only pale shadows of this, easily borne and passed through in a day or two. This was not that. It would not end until he got the knot and come of his true mate inside him and nothing would be the same after it was over. 

"I need you, Castiel," Dean said. "Now."

With that, he tried to climb on top of Castiel, roll the man onto his back and mount him. Anything to get the man's cock inside of himself. 

Castiel was older though, taller, stronger and, despite his quiet demeanor, very much an Alpha. "Quiet, Dean," he said and he rolled Dean onto his back. He hovered over Dean, looking him up and down. "You will get what you need when I am ready to give it to you. Such a little slut. You'd do anything, so long as you get off, wouldn't you? Let me suck the milk out of your tits."

"Yes," Dean said and it wasn't just the heat that was making him so desperate. It was Castiel's voice, so commanding and rough. It was hard wired right to his hole, making him needy and wet. "Please. I need you. I need it."

Castiel latched onto Dean's left tit and sucked, hard, far harder than he needed to get the milk out but Dean didn't mind. It just felt good. He tweaked Dean's other nipple, flicked it with a finger to get it hard, then rolled the eraser sized nipple between his fingers. Dean couldn't stop himself from driving his hips up against Castiel's abs, trying to get friction against his cock. Cas didn't let him do that though. Instead, Cas shifted off of Dean and put his hand between Dean's legs. He avoided Dean's cock, but instead, he was seeking the softer, wetter tissues just behinds Dean's balls- Dean's cunt, his hole. Right now it was leaking slick all over the place. He pressed a finger inside Dean and Dean could only whimper, because it was good, but it wasn't near enough. Still, he kept fucking Dean with that finger for several minutes, kept Dean on the whimpering edge of not quite enough, of needing more.

"You love this. You're so wet," Cas said. "My little cock slut. All mine, mine alone.You need more though. You need your hole filled with my knot and need your tits emptied."

He didn't stick his cock in Dean though. He just added another finger and kept up the finger fucking, all the while sucking Dean's tits, taking the milk that had only ever gone to Sam before. He'd thought he would mind that, someone else taking Sammy's milk, but all he could think was that he wished that Castiel had two mouths somehow, so that the other tit would get adequate attention.

Castiel took his fingers out of Dean's hole. They were wet, glistening with slick and he wiped the excess on Dean's tits, then squeezed them until milk dribbled out. They weren't big, Dean's tits. They were little Omega tits, big enough that they were unmistakeable as more than just chest, but no bigger. Less than a handful, even when they were completely engorged with milk. 

"Over," Castiel ordered. "On your knees. Breeding position. This might hurt. I don't think I've broken your hymen yet."

Then Castiel rolled him over with hands that were surprisingly strong, manhandled him until his knees were drawn up under him, his ass in the air. His chest was pressed down to the bed. Then Cas mounted him, driving his cock into Dean's hole and hell yeah it hurt. There was a near audible pop and a feeling like something inside him was tearing. Dean bit down on the cry of pain as Castiel was suddenly seated all the way deep in him. He wasn't given any time to adjust as Cas pulled out again, nearly all the way, then drove back in to the hilt and it wasn't too long before pain was forgotten about.

It felt so freaking amazing. Like a fire was put out, but also like a fire was kindled again. But it so very much exactly what he needed. He was, for this moment, completed. Exactly as he was supposed to be. It just felt so right, to have this demanding cock inside him. Cas draped himself over Dean and grabbed Dean's tits as he began to thrust fast and hard, and there wasn't a lot of thinking after that. Just him and Cas and them trying to become one person by smashing themselves together. 

Castiel's cock kept getting bigger, getting harder for it to slip into his hole. His knot was growing, Dean recognized, then he could feel his own internal muscles moving, clenching, trying to keep that knot inside him. Then, his own orgasm surprised him, his balls drawing up tight to his body, the last conscious thought driven out by a pure, intense, white out kind of pleasure. He was splattering his come on Castiel's white down comforter and he felt his internal knot finally grab and hold, locking Castiel's inside him. Castiel groaned, came, flooding Dean's hole with hot wetness. Castiel's hands clenched onto whatever they were holding- Dean's tits. His fingers pinched Dean's nipples hard, making him yelp, cry out. It was that weird halfway point between pleasure and pain and it didn't feel bad. He wanted more, even. But Cas just slumped bonelessly against Dean's back, and he kind of half laughed, half cried. 

"Now what?" Castiel asked.

"A tie normally lasts half an hour, maybe forty-five minutes," Dean said. He tried to nudge them over sideways a little, because he could just barely breathe and talk with the weight of the older man draped on top of him. Cas seemed to realize what he was doing and he shifted and rolled and they both were on their side. 

"No, I mean, after that," Castiel said. "When your heat is over."

"This was what you wanted out of me, wasn't it?" Dean accused. "We're married in all possible ways now."

"This isn't what I intended. I wanted marriage in the eye of God, not mating," Castiel said. "This is messy. Unpredictable."

"You mean it's real," Dean countered. 

He thought about the man's house, what little he'd seen of it. It was crazy neat, like a picture out of a magazine neat. And it didn't have stuff in it. Oh, it had things, all the things you were supposed to have in a house, but none of them seemed personal, imbued with any meaning. There were no pictures tacked up to the fridge with magnets, nor those little scraps of paper with phone numbers that always accumulated. Dean had seen how Castiel seemed to have this little script in his head of how picking out Dean and marrying him was supposed to go. More than that, Dean had seen how flustered Castiel got whenever Dean deviated from that script. This man, until now, had lived a carefully controlled life. He'd thought he needed the right, meek little Omega wife to complete the picture. The fact that he thought he was getting Dean to relieve his horniness was almost beside the point. Even his mild little kinkiness, the dirty talk and the sucking on Dean's tits,was just part of the picture that Castiel saw his life being. 

But Dean, he was more than that. He'd come to the man as a real, full person, with attachments and griefs, with needs of his own. And not as a placeholder for the ideal little wife Castiel thought he wanted. Dean didn't fit into a neat box and never would. Something in Castiel had woken something in Dean- the real, wild, animal instincts that were the basis for their Alpha and Omega heritage, that last bit of wild werewolf that had melded with humanity long, long ago. Dad had told him all the old stories- how the were had been subsumed, merged into humanity. No one ever changed to a wolf in the full moon, nor ran in packs, but in Alphas and Omegas you found the vestiges of it, popping up in strange, sometimes wonderful, sometimes scary ways. Like the way his body had suddenly recognized its mate in Castiel and had gone into heat for him. 

"I'm real," Dean said. "I'm messy. Unpredictable. I'm not your wife. I'm your mate. I'm sorry that doesn't mesh with your plans for me, but there are no take-backs here, no do overs."

Dean could feel Castiel's cock twitch inside him and hear the man behind him gasp, coming again, dumping more semen into Dean's needy hole. Dean could feel his guts move, clench. It felt like his stomach jumping, but lower. He knew it for what it was, his cervix moving, dipping itself into the semen to take more into itself. Even if Dean couldn't get pregnant, or at least he didn't think he could as most male Omegas couldn't, the semen was important, it helped form the bond between mates. It'd scent mark him too, making him safe from importuning from other Alphas. Any Alpha would know that he belonged to Cas.

"It's not that I wanted this any more than you do," Dean said. It was crazy, really, that it had happened like this. He didn't even like the guy, did he? He was the kind of guy who hadn't really seen anything wrong with, call it whatever you want, buying a wife. It certainly put the kibosh on his plans of taking what he could get out of the guy for as long as Sam needed the help and then getting the hell out of Dodge when they didn't need that any more. 

Castiel clutched at Dean, pulled him tight, and said, "It's not that I don't want this. I just didn't expect it. You're my Omega. I suspect that this is just the start of a very profound bond between us. I just wish I'd had some warning. Dean, you're certain you won't get pregnant from this?"

"I think it's something like only one percent of male Omegas ever get pregnant, even when they're trying. The doctor wouldn't even test me to see if I could get pregnant," Dean said, thinking of a clinic his father had dragged him to when he was younger, not long after puberty and the first of his pseudo heats had started. The doctor had given him a cursory examination, but nothing else before pronouncing him to be like 99% of all male Omegas- incapable of conceiving, much less carrying a successful pregnancy. 

"That's...good. I don't want us to conceive a child. I've never wanted children of my own. Sam is as much of a complication as I think I could handle."

"Don't worry about Sam. I'll take care of him. I've been taking care of him for as long as I can remember. He's a good kid and he won't cause any trouble. You'll hardly know he's here," Dean reassured Castiel. Dean wasn't about to let Castiel find some reason to send Sam away early or anything like that. Because he was messy or whatever. Besides, Sam really was a good kid. So long as you put a pile of books in his hand and made sure nothing got in the way of him getting to school, you hardly heard a peep from him. Dean was pretty sure it'd be easy to get a library card for Sam and get him into school now that they were going to be settled, and not in care at some boys Home. Sam had always been Dean's one job, the one, most important thing he needed to do. He couldn't see as that would change, just because he was now mated to Castiel. 

***

Castiel pulled Dean closer, tighter. He thought about what Dean had said. That their mating, it was real. Was it more real than the hurried ceremony and vows in the church earlier today? Because, whatever Dean had thought, had promised inside his own mind despite his outward words, Castiel had meant the words he'd said. He'd intended marriage for forever, or for at least as long as he could hold on to the beautiful boy he'd found at the orphanage. 

Castiel stared at the back of Dean's head, at the way the highlighted hair seemed to glow in the lamplight. The short winter day was nearly over and he'd turned on the bed side lamp so they wouldn't be plunged into complete darkness, though the little reading light only flooded a small area with its golden light, and most of that was behind Castiel. Much of Dean was still in the shadows. Castiel sighed with something that he thought must be happiness, or something like it. Perhaps it was just the hormonal storm brewed up by their mating. The mating, the knotting specifically, caused a big dump of bonding hormones in both partners- oxytocin, mostly. It was a pleasure unlike any Castiel had ever known before, in some ways, more pleasurable than the climax itself. They were vulnerable tied up together like this, and that made an Alpha more protective. It made Castiel want to hold Dean tightly, forever, wrap him up, not just in his arms, but throw his legs around the boy, hide him with his whole body. 

Mostly, Dean let himself be gripped tight, with little protest, his breathing slowing down, like he was drifting to sleep, though at one point, he did hiss and wriggle when Castiel's arm found its way too close to the boy's throat, to the bite wound there. Castiel loosened his grip, lowered his arm. He felt an odd mixture of puzzlement and pride at that. He'd marked Dean, made his claim. But how could he have done it in such a primitive, almost savage way? Alphas didn't mark their claims on their Omegas like that any more. It was done with jewelry, with a tattoo, maybe, for the most traditional and permanence minded. 

It was still bleeding a little, Castiel noted, just a bit of seeping. Nothing to be alarmed about. They'd treat it when they were able to be separated. It was then that Castiel noticed the bright red smear on his white pillowcases. Several small stains, actually, vivid against the pure, otherwise unstained fabric. Then he became aware of the slickness between the pair of them, near where they were joined and he looked. It wasn't leaking come, but blood and it had gotten all over the white duvet cover.

"You're bleeding, Dean!" Castiel said.

"I was a virgin and you just shoved an object the size of your fist into my pussy. Of course I'm bleeding. You busted my cherry good," Dean said, irritation in his voice, like he wanted to be asleep and wondered why Castiel was bothering him with talk. "This doctor I went to once said I had a particularly tough hymen. Offered to snip it for me, but my Dad didn't want him to."

Of course. A hymen being the only real proof of virginity, the boy's father would have wanted it kept intact. As pure as an Omega might seem otherwise, without that proof, an Omega's social value was much, much lower. 

"Are you in pain?" Castiel asked. "I wouldn't want to hurt you."

"It hurt when you did it, and the bite still kind of hurts now," Dean said. "But otherwise, I'm good. Better than good. Lemme sleep now. Tired. Up all night with Sammy."

So he let the boy in his arms drift off to sleep. Castiel couldn't sleep, so he laid there, listening to Dean breathe, the soft, regular in and out. He wondered if this sudden, fierce possessiveness was love or something like it, or whether you could even call it an emotion. Surely it was just the hormone surges, but it felt as real as anything Castiel had ever felt. It felt like he'd been staggered, like he'd been given a blow to the head by a bolt gun. No, it felt like his heart was lighter than it had ever been before, lighter than since that day when he realized that his father was never coming back. 

He wasn't even aware that he'd slipped into sleep until he was waking up again. It was full dark out now and during the time they'd broken apart and though his arms were still holding Dean tightly, their lower bodies had drifted apart in sleep. Dean slept more on his stomach, legs splayed open. Castiel could see Dean's inner thighs smeared with drying blood and glistening with pink-ish white streaks of come and blood mixed together. Castiel would have thought he'd be ill at the that sight, but instead, he grew hard again. He shook Dean's shoulder to rouse him.

"Yeah?" Dean asked, sleepily, He opened his eyes to look at Castiel blearily. 

"Now, Dean," Castiel said, rolling Dean fully over onto his stomach and pulling his hips up. He mounted Dean, thrusting in deep in one long, smooth roll of his hips. Dean moaned as Castiel held still, the length of his cock buried fully into Dean's depth. Castiel tried to catch his breath, control it, because it felt like he was on the verge of coming again, right now and he wanted to. Wanted to just paint the inside of Dean with his come, wanted to fill him up.

"Move, damn it," Dean said. "You wake me up to fuck me, then fuck me. Need to feel you move."

So Castiel moved, found himself panting with great heaving breaths as his muscles tensed, as his focus narrowed to just this moment, just this bed, just Dean under him. The boy's back was slender, bony even, the knobs of his vertebrae could be counted one by one, but the curve of it was graceful, beautiful. Dean buried his face in the pillows, whether that was to muffle his cries of pleasure or to hide himself, Castiel didn't know, but he decided that the next time, he would take Dean on his back, so that the boy couldn't hide his beautiful face away, so that he could kiss the boy as they copulated. It wasn't long before he could feel Dean's muscles trying to clench around him, feel himself swell up even more. He was coming, then they were suddenly tied together again. 

"Cas," Dean said, just a whisper, as the older man collapsed on his back. "Alpha."

"Mine," Castiel replied, then kissed the back of his neck, which made Dean shiver, his shoulders rising up. 

"Yours," Dean said, and it sounded like surrender, but a reluctant, even defiant one.

***

 

They woke several times over the course of the night to fuck, following the same pattern mostly. Dean would be woken from the depth of a sound sleep to find that Castiel was already moving him into position, spreading his legs, almost on the verge of entering Dean before he was awake. They'd couple, Castiel more enthusiastically than Dean, who sometimes didn't even fully wake up, even though his body responded to his Alpha's every time. Then they'd be knotted and drift back to sleep again in each other's arms, still tied together. Wash, rinse, repeat. 

When it was finally dawn again, Dean woke up once when Castiel didn't. There wasn't even a knock at the door, but he caught the just barely audible sound of Sammy calling out through the door, "Dean?" 

Dean slipped out of Castiel's arms, hoping the older man wouldn't stir and he didn't. Dean grabbed the underwear he'd stripped out of earlier and pulled them on. He winced when he realized what he smelled like, like sex, like semen, like the Alpha sleeping in the bed behind him, but he didn't have time to grab a shower even though he felt crusty and a little sticky between his legs. Sam needed to be taken care of. Sam would never have come looking for him if there wasn't something he really needed. If nothing else, he'd intended to put Sam down for a nap and no longer, then somehow, he'd slept and fucked through the night. Sam hadn't had dinner, nor had Dean. They'd had nothing since the sparse lunch served at the orphanage- a slender peanut butter sandwich, no jelly, and an apple. Sam wouldn't eat peanut butter either, so Dean had eaten Sam's sandwich, then they'd snuck off so Sam could nurse some. 

Dean grabbed what he thought was his own white t-shirt, not realizing until he'd gotten it on and it hung to mid-thigh, loose like a nightgown, that it was Castiel's undershirt. He kept it on, not wanting to keep Sam waiting any longer. Mostly covered, Dean slipped out of the bedroom and softly shut the door behind him.

"I'm hungry, Dean," Sammy whispered. 

"I bet, Sammy. I'm sorry. I didn't think he'd want to keep doing it all night," Dean said as he steered Sam down the hallway to the stairs. "We'll go to the kitchen. I'm sure this guy has got some food. We just gotta pick up after ourselves. Did you see how much of a neat freak this guy is?"

"Don't want food," Sammy said, and then he was tugging at the big undershirt Dean was wearing, even as they were walking down the stairs.

"You gotta eat real food too," Dean said, even as there was part of him that just about glowed at the thought that Sam didn't want anything but him. "Remember what that doctor said, that you'd get sick again if you didn't eat real food. That nothing but milk is fine for babies, but you're not a baby anymore."

"Please, Dean," Sam said, and he said it in that certain way, with that certain inflection. Even though Castiel had been sucking on Dean's tits on and off all night, Dean's milk let down with prickling sensation, sort of like pins and needles. Wet spots appeared on the front of Dean's shirt. This kind of automatic let down had stopped years ago when Sam stopped being a baby, but then after Dad died, and Sam had needed Dean so much, it'd started up again. 

Dean sighed. "Okay, you can nurse this morning, but you're eating solid food for lunch."

When they got downstairs, Dean was a little at a loss where they could settle down together for a while. The kitchen only had hard chairs, so did the formal dining room. There was a home office, but it seemed off limits somehow, the door not actually shut, but pulled partially shut, open just a crack. It looked like any work office Dean had ever seen, with computer and desk and chair and file cabinets. The living room was a formal room, with light beige sofas that looked like they'd never been sat on. The white throw pillows had this perfect dip in the center that looked like they'd been karate chopped. Dean knew that if they disturbed them, he'd never be able to get them back into that exact shape again. 

Off of the kitchen was another room, and even though Dean and Sam had never lived in a place before with more than three or four rooms total, he'd been in enough houses belonging to other more normal people, to be able to supply the name of that room. It was the family room. People kept their TVs in there and big comfy chairs and overstuffed sofas. Castiel's family room had nothing in it. That was okay. That meant there'd be nothing for them to mess up, and it did have this plush looking carpeting that looked perfectly clean, not like the grubby, grayed carpeting in the places where they'd usually lived. 

He got Sam to sit on the floor with him, up against the wall. Dean just took off his shirt, thinking that the house was warm enough that he could do that. He'd never lived in a place before where they kept it warm enough to walk around shirtless in the winter. The room was comfortable, even though as he looked out to the steel gray dawn sky, he could see that snow was starting to fall in thick, clumpy flakes, blown nearly sideways by the wind. Castiel's back yard was covered in white, though the tips of the grass blades still poked out of the white. 

Sam settled in next to him, snuggled himself in tight, then put his mouth on Dean's breast and started suckling. He put his free hand on Dean's knee and squeezed. When he was younger, Sam had the bad habit of playing with Dean's free nipple and it'd gotten to be really irritating, so Dean had put Sam's hand onto his knee every time he'd tried it, until eventually, Sam had got the hint. Now he automatically went for the knee. 

Dean sighed, feeling kind of soft and fuzzy like he always did when nursing Sam. It wasn't at all how it felt when Castiel had been sucking at his tits last night. He just felt a sweet, pleasurable glow from Sam's touches and mouth, a gentle love for Sam. Maybe a bit of pride that he could provide for his brother like this. Maybe a little bit of possessiveness about his Sammy. And a feeling of utter rightness that he was taking care of Sam. That was his job and his purpose and he was doing it, doing it right. 

Dean ran his fingers through Sam's too long, tousled locks, wondering if he could get the money from Castiel for a hair cut for Sam. Dean should have taken the two hundred Castiel had offered as a clothes budget and tried to pocket the extra somehow. That way, he wouldn't be having to worry about asking for money, at least for a while. Cas would give him what he needed to take care of Sammy, right, Dean asked himself. That was still the deal, wasn't it? It didn't change because his damn body had decided to go into heat. 

Funny that it was over already, but it was. He no longer felt empty, hollow. He felt solid. He'd been filled up in the only way his body cared about getting filled. But it had only been just over twelve hours The couple of little practice heats he'd had lasted three days of needy misery each. Maybe getting a knot and some Alpha come was enough to end a heat?

Dean drifted a little into sleep as Sammy continued to suckle, but he woke up when Sam finally removed his mouth, and spoke, "You're empty." 

It wasn't an accusation, so much as it was just sadness. Sam gave him the puppy eyes. 

Dean yawned and stretched, "If you sucked 'em dry, you sucked 'em dry, dude. If you give it a rest for now, I can make more."

"He sucked out your milk, didn't he?" Sam said and he rubbed Dean's knee hard. 

"Look, kiddo, what me and Cas do in his bedroom is none of your business. You got plenty. If you're still hungry, that just means you need to eat some food. You want me to see what Cas has got? Maybe he's got stuff to make pancakes."

"Don't want pancakes," Sam whined. "Want more milk."

"Food," Dean said. "Real, solid food first. Then maybe more milk in a couple hours."

He quieted as he heard footsteps coming down the steps, then eventually, into the kitchen. It was Castiel. He'd changed into a pair of blue pajamas with a bathrobe over them. Somehow, it just seemed like a different version of his black suit with the trench coat over it. He carried a laundry basket overflowing with sheets and other bedding. The blood from when Castiel had popped his cherry had dried brown and ugly on the pure white bedding. It wasn't that there was really that much blood, but down comforter thing was right on top of the pile and Cas had made no effort to conceal the stain.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said. "What are you and your brother doing sitting on the floor?"

"There wasn't any place we could get comfortable for him to nurse," Dean explained. "And not mess anything up, anyway."

***

Castiel had been disappointed to wake up alone in his bed. There was no trace of Dean in the room and if it weren't for the brown blood stains on the duvet, Castiel might have thought it all some lust-filled feverish dream. He found some pajamas and his robe and went to check and see if he could find Dean. His cock was fully erect and he'd been hoping he and Dean could engage in coitus again this morning. That aspect of their new relationship exceeded any expectations that Castiel could have had. 

Out in the hallway, the door to the guest room was open and there was no sign of the boys in it. The bathroom door was open. They might be downstairs then. Castiel remembered how he taken Dean to bed in the early evening and there had been no dinner for any of them. No doubt they were getting themselves some breakfast. Hopefully, they could do so without making too much mess.

Castiel winced when he went back into bedroom and he looked at the dark stains on his white duvet. It wasn't really that much blood, but it had been spread around and mixed with come. It just glared against the pure white. He couldn't leave it like that. He couldn't even stand to leave the bedroom in the morning before the duvet was back in place and wrinkle free. To leave the bedroom in this state was just just unthinkable, especially as his cleaning lady was coming this afternoon. He checked the time. It was just past seven in the morning. He certainly had time to strip the bed and get the stained bedding into the wash before he had to get ready for work. It was the work of a moment to get the bed stripped bare and pull the back up set of linens from the hallway linen closet. He hung his suit back up in the closet into the spot for the suits that had been worn only once and might be worn again before needing dry cleaning. The bedroom was soon looking just exactly like it had the previous morning, aside from a small pile of Dean's clothes, neatly folded now. 

Only then did he head downstairs, laundry basket in hand. He heard soft voices from the kitchen area and smiled. Then the voices stopped. Whatever they had been talking about, they didn't want him to hear. He walked into the kitchen didn't see them at the table or counter, nor anywhere, until he fully in the room and he could into the unfurnished bonus room off the kitchen, the one he'd never been sure what to do with. They were huddled together against the wall, sitting on the floor, looking up at him as if they were scared at what he might do. 

Last night, Dean had seemed like some kind of wanton siren, assured, mature, ripe with possibility. This morning, Dean seemed very small and thin. So very, very young too. Just barely not a child. Dean was bare chested, his little Omega sized breasts exposed, his nipples deep rose. He'd been feeding his brother with them, Castiel thought. The same milky breasts that had inspired such depraved lust last night had been put to innocent use- their true purpose, not Castiel's pervert purpose. 

Sam, next to Dean, seemed even more child-like. He was as small as child several years younger, and thin as well, though not quite as badly thin as Dean. Castiel suspected that Dean had often given Sam his share of solid food as well as the breastmilk. Either way, the pair of them clutching to each other on the bare floor of his extra room made them seem even more like the orphans they were. Had been. Castiel was taking care of them now. He'd made a promise that he would care for Sam and Dean was his wife and mate who deserved his care and protection. It looked he was doing a poor job so far. They didn't believe they deserved to even sit on the furniture. 

"Hello, Dean," Castiel said. "What are you and your brother doing sitting on the floor?"

Castiel winced internally after this. It had sounded like he'd accused them, that they didn't even deserve that much. 

"There wasn't any place we could get comfortable for him to nurse," Dean explained. "And not mess anything up, anyway."

"Well, I suppose the living room sofas are not the most comfortable pieces of furniture, but you might have withstood it for a little while," Castiel said, thinking of the tight, hard upholstery, the upright lines, the way that not even the throw cushions softened it up enough. He had liked the way they looked in the store, so clean-lined and modern, but it was a misery to sit on them. Castiel never did. Most of his free time, he spent in his office, doing free lance work.

"You really wouldn't mind us messing it up?" Dean asked. 

Castiel thought about the formal living room, how tidy it pleased him to keep it, the effort it took to neaten everyone of those throw pillows. He thought about Sam's small hands smearing whatever on the pale beige upholstery, he wasn't sure what, but he knew that young children were messy and sometimes sticky. He was about to agree that yes, he did mind the pair of them messing up the living room, then he looked again at them huddled on the floor. 

"This is your home now, Dean," Castiel said, then he thought again about how rambunctious boys could be, despite Dean's assurances that Sam would hardly be noticed. "How about this? I have never furnished this room because I could not think of a function for it, but I have you two now. We will pick out comfortable furniture and it will be a room for the two of you. A playroom perhaps."

Dean scowled at that and for a moment, Castiel thought he had misspoken, that the pair of them were too old for a play room and that was what Dean objected to. Instead, Dean said, "It's not a play room. It's a family room. It'll be for you too. We are a family now, aren't we, Cas?"

That last question was like a physical blow and Castiel had to turn away, not because Dean had intended any harm by it. But Castiel hadn't thought about what he'd been doing. He had, in fact, gathered a little family to him. Family, though, that was a loaded word. Loaded in the same way a gun was loaded. Family was absence and longing. It was loneliness and the promise of love that was never delivered. It was a father gone during Castiel's teenage years. No doubt he'd been tired by the responsibilities of such a large brood, their constant demands. Castiel was one of the big clump of middle children in a family of twelve children. You would think that being in the midst of so many meant you were never alone, but it only was an intense counterpoint to his solitary existence. Even now, he looked at Dean holding Sam so tightly and knew that the pair of them shared something he would never truly be part of and he ached. Knew that it was a mistake, having brought the boys here, into his life. He turned to go, to his office, where he knew he could sneak an hour of freelance before needed to be at work. Then hesitated when he remembered he still had the basket filled with bed linens, stained by the boy's lost maidenhead.

Then Dean said, "We are a family, Cas. You. Me. Sam. Like it or not."

"Yes, of course," Castiel said. "I need to tend to the laundry now, then I need to ready myself for work. I believe we might have time to shop for this furniture after I return from work. Until then, feel free to sit anywhere you like. Mrs. Spanopolus, my house cleaner, will be here this afternoon and she can show you how to neaten up the sofa if you use it."

***

Dean could hardly believe what he was hearing. The man had just taken a new wife and the very next day, it was business as usual for him. He was going to act like nothing had happened, do his laundry, take a shower and go to work. Leaving them here to rot all day, not even getting Sam started in his new school. More than that, he felt kind of stung. The prospect of going to work genuinely sounded better to the guy than staying home with his new wife, taking him back to bed for a leisurely morning. The guy had spent a night satisfying any lust he'd ever had and decided that accounting, or whatever it was he did, was better than his new wife's pussy. 

"We won't mess up your sofa," Dean said. "Sam and me will hang out in our bedroom. After we've had some breakfast. If that's okay by you. We wouldn't want to bother your routine. You might as well go. I can take care of the laundry. It is my blood, after all."

With that, he tried to tug the laundry basket out of Castiel's hands, not even certain of why he just so angry. It wasn't like he wanted to hang out with Castiel. The man going off to work would just give him time to spend with Sam. It wasn't like he liked doing laundry, but the fact that Castiel kept gripping tight to the basket made it feel like the man didn't trust him with simple household tasks. Had he been brought here, made this man's mate, his wife, just so that he could have someone to fuck? 

"That is not necessary," Castiel said. "I only expect that you pick up after yourself and your brother. I did not bring you here to become my housekeeper."

"No," Dean snapped. "Dress it up all you want in fancy words, but you bought me to be a whore you could fuck without feeling guilty about it."

"You should show some respect," Castiel said. "I'm the one that rescued you from that orphanage."

There was a brief, dramatic pause, before Castiel added, "And I can put you back there too. Or rather, I can put Sam back there."

"What have you done yet that deserves my respect?" Dean demanded. The one and only thing that made this place better than the orphanage was that he thought there'd be no threat of separating him and Sam. "Because you bought us a load of used clothes from the Goodwill? You probably spent more than that on those stupid white throw pillows. Because you could make my body respond to you? Because you have the power to break the one promise you made to me that I was really counting on you keeping."

Castiel seemed to, not exactly crumple, but slightly wilt under Dean's accusations. He let Dean rip the laundry basket out of his hands. He looked at his empty hands, then at Dean who kept glaring at him. If he could cut the man in half with the laser eyes he always wished he had, he would have. 

"You are correct, Dean," Castiel said. "I should not have threatened to separate you from your brother. I promised I would take care of him. Are you dissatisfied with your new clothes? We could purchase new clothes for you both when we go out shopping tonight."

"No, that doesn't matter," Dean said. He hadn't ever seen much point in buying new clothes when the used ones from the Goodwill were just as good and so much cheaper. "I want you to live up to your promises. You said Sam could go to school."

"I did."

"You're going to need to register him. I don't even know what school to send him to and they won't let me register him."

"I thought we would start him with the new year. The schools will be out for the holiday break now."

It was only then that Dean remembered that it was three days before Christmas. There'd been no decorations nor preparations for it at the Orphanage, nor did Castiel's house show any signs of it either. You'd think Castiel would have something up, being as he was so freaking religious that he had to get married in a church before he would fuck the wife he had bought, had to pray before he dehymenated Dean. Christmas was a big religious thing, wasn't it? Dean, for his part, hated the holidays. Everyone of them was a reminder of what he didn't have any more. The last holiday they'd celebrated had been just him and Sam and some presents and decorations he'd stolen. Dad had been gone, like he always was, supposedly on business, but probably passed out somewhere drunk. And Dean had screwed it up too. He'd thought he was stealing some good presents for Sam, but had ended up taking chick presents, a Barbie and some glittery wand thing. It wasn't like this would be their first Christmas without Dad. Just the first one where they knew he wasn't there because he was dead. 

There was a hand on his ankle. Sam trying to get his attention. Dean looked down at his younger brother, still sitting on the carpet, but he'd kind of shuffled behind Dean. Sam gave him a look, the one that asked him to stop fighting with the grown ups in charge. Oh, had Dean never fought with Dad, but if there any other adult trying to do something to hurt Sam or split them up or anything like that, they were fair game as far as Dean was concerned. He'd do whatever it took to keep Sam safe and next to him, and if that had meant going head to head with social workers or Ms. Visyak herself, he'd do it. Sam found it in turns mortifying and dangerous. He didn't want to be known as the difficult boy and he thought it would make the adults angry and more likely to split them up. There wasn't any point, really, in arguing with Castiel at this moment, so he'd cede the argument, for Sam's sake.

"Oh," Dean said. "I hadn't thought about school being out. I'll do the laundry. Is there anything I shouldn't use when I make some food for Sam?"

 

***

Castiel hadn't much been surprised by Dean's anger. That was very much part of the Dean he was getting to know. What had come as a surprise was the way it was instantly gone suddenly. There had been a brief moment where Sam had touched his older brother and they'd shared a look between them. There was an obvious, albeit silent communication between them and then all of Dean's anger was seemingly gone. Maybe not gone, but just covered over, tamped down. Castiel was jealous again of the easy rapport between the brothers, the closeness. And it didn't even matter that Sam was Omega. At this moment, though, it was less about the closeness of the two of them and more about Sam daring to touch that which was Castiel's. He suddenly felt the overwhelming need to assert his ownership of Dean again. 

He tore the basket out of Dean's hands and tossed it aside. He grabbed the boy's hand and dragged him in the direction of the stairs. 

Dean seemed to understand and cooperate with what was happening, but his mind was still on his brother. 

"Sam needs food," he said, resisting as they were at the door to the hallway. 

"Can he get himself a bowl of cereal?" Castiel asked. Dean nodded. "Sam, the cereal is the second cabinet right of the dishwasher. Milk in the refrigerator. In fact, eat any food you want in the refrigerator."

Then Dean let himself be taken from the kitchen and pushed up against the wall next to the stairs. Castiel pressed his lips against Dean's, who opened them slightly under the assault of Castiel's kiss. It was sublime, to feel Dean's smooth lips moving under his, to feel the moment where Dean melted, then again, melted a little more. 

"Cas?" Dean asked in a brief moment when Castiel released his lips. 

"Yes, Dean?"

"I'm not in heat now," Dean said.

"I am aware of this," Castiel said. "Do you believe that I would desire you only when biological imperative insists that I do? Do you not desire me right now?"

"I. I don't know," Dean said, hesitation clear in his gestures, in the way he kept glancing back to the kitchen where from the sounds of it, Sam was digging through the cereal cabinet and perhaps taking out each and every one of the cereal boxes. Castiel thought he heard the sounds of one box being spilled all over the floor. It was an effort, but he ignored it. 

"You are my spouse. I am your husband. We should cleave to each other and no other. Your brother will be fine and I desire you at this moment," Castiel said. 

"The laundry..."

"Can wait."

"The blood stains will set," Dean said. 

"Bleach will take care of them. Now. Upstairs."

So Dean obediently climbed the stairs and Castiel's cock grew stiffer yet from the sight of the smooth, round, globes of Dean's perfect rear contract and relax as he climbed. Not even the oversize undershirt, no doubt Castiel's own, could hide the beauty of Dean's body. Once they were upstairs, in the bedroom, Castiel stripped that shirt off Dean, so that he could admire the boy's torso, the sweet little Omega sized breasts especially. Dean was breathing heavily, his chest heaving with each gasping breathe. Castiel bent his head to Dean's left and suckled. Nothing came out. No doubt Sam had suckled his older brother dry and though he felt anger and jealousy, he tamped that down, because Sam had a more legitimate claim to that milk that he did. He kept sucking on the nipple though, because Dean was making soft, aroused sounds, mewling and panting. He was rutting his hips against Castiel's body, his cock hard and getting harder.

"You love this, don't you?" Castiel asked. "You would let me do anything to you, so long as you get your little tits sucked on?"

It wasn't long though, before grinding his erection on sheets wasn't enough. Castiel slid between Dean's legs, nudging them even wider apart, then he pushed in, drove himself into Dean's hot, tight pussy. Dean gasped and squashed his eyes shut, hard, threw his head back and to the side. It was as if he was both giving himself fully over to the pleasure of Castiel's body moving in him, and hiding from it. It wasn't long before both of them were shouting their completion and his knot was swelling inside Dean. They tied together and Castiel couldn't help slumping down onto Dean, resting his whole weight onto the boy. 

Hearing the boy breathing shallowly, with some effort, Castiel rolled them both over so that Dean was on the top, resting his weight on Castiel, rather than the other way around. It wasn't that Dean was so much smaller than Castiel. Height wise, Dean was some inches shorter than Castiel and obviously still growing. Perhaps he would be taller than Castiel when his growth was complete, but not yet. But Dean was slender, almost frail feeling compared with Castiel. His breadth had not yet caught up to his height. Castiel had felt like he was crushing the boy. He suspected that their time at the orphanage had been far from their first period of deprivation in their lives. 

There was something to the talk that when an Alpha and an Omega mated, that it stirred protective feelings in the Alpha. Protective and possessive, but mostly protective. He pulled the duvet cover that he'd pushed away earlier over the both of them. Then he wrapped his arms around Dean's slight form. Despite that, Dean was still shivering and it was obvious that it was from more than mere cold.

"I'm sorry," Castiel said, when he was able to think more clearly again. "Sam was not the only one who went without dinner last night. You haven't had any food since lunch yesterday. When we can separate, I'll make a meal for us all."

"Don't you have to go to work?" Dean asked. 

"In seven years of employment with my current employer, I have not missed an unplanned day of work. I believe that I will call in. I had not anticipated it, but I believe it more important that I get you two settled in your new home and spend time with my new spouse. I would not relish the drive anyway. Look."

The wind and the snow had picked up even since Castiel had woken up and it was near whiteout conditions. Everything, the grass, sidewalks, the streets, had been buried under a couple of inches of snow. The sky itself was heavy, laden with low lying clouds in ominous gray. Castiel reached awkwardly to the drawer of the bedside table, where he kept the remote to the television he never watched. He wanted to check the weather reports. As he clicked the screen on, the phone rang. He almost startled. Few people ever called the house line. He had a separate line in his office, dedicated for the use of his freelance work and that rang far more often. He grabbed the cordless receiver and brought it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Castiel! This is Jenny," the voice on the other end of the line said. It was the office manager of his work place. "We've decided we're not opening today. Weather's too bad and it's getting worse. So, just, you know, stay home."

"I understand."

"I know you get kind of upset when you can't come in, when your schedule is upset, but really, it's not worth it," Jenny said. "Just stay put."

Last year on the day when they received eighteen inches of snow, Castiel was one of two people who had made it into the office. He had struggled in to work in the worst driving conditions he had ever experience, been able to work for two hours and ended up having to leave when the office lost power. 

"I was about call and inform you I would not be present today anyway. I believe conditions preclude safe driving," Castiel said. Then Dean did something exceedingly distracting, and licked and kissed his way down Castiel's neck and then licked Cas right in the little dip where his clavicles met his sternum. No one in Castiel's memory had touched him there, ever, and it was exquisitely sensitive. He couldn't control the sudden gasp he made.

"Castiel! Is there someone there with you? Did you actually do it? Get yourself an Omega from that orphanage? I never thought you would do it," Jenny laughed. More cackled like a crow. 

"Yes, I married yesterday afternoon," Castiel said, with as much dignity as he could muster, what with his office manager still laughing loudly at him over the phone and Dean nibbling at his collarbones. 

"In that case, don't you dare come in until after Christmas!" Jenny said. "I'll be sure to let everyone know, so they can congratulate you when you get back."

As Jenny hung up, before he could even protest that he did not need all that time off, Dean's internal muscles squeezed around Castiel's knot. Castiel let the phone handset drop onto the floor beside the bed and he grabbed Dean by the back of the head to pull him close for a punishingly hard kiss and for a good while after that, the phone, the weather, the television, they were all forgotten in favor of giving back to Dean as good as he was giving. 

Much later that morning, Castiel woke from a brief nap taken in the arms of his new wife. They were separate again and if not sated, then at least in need of a rest from each other. Both of their lips were puffy from kissing and they were covered, from torso up, with dozens of little bruises and marks. Outside, the snow continued to be driven sideways, piling up in knee high drifts some places and scoured away completely in others. 

"Jesus, it's been three hours," Dean said, suddenly and darted away from the bed, grabbing the pile of clothes he'd discarded earlier. "Sam could have gotten into anything. Promise you won't punish him for getting into trouble when I wasn't there to stop him. We don't know the rules here. He doesn't know."

Dean sounded truly alarmed and Castiel was taken aback. How was Dean expecting Castiel to respond? With physical violence perhaps?

"Dean, how much trouble could he have gotten into?"

"He's very smart and he'll have gotten bored," Dean said. "You don't have a television or books for him or anything."

"There are plenty of books downstairs," Castiel said, puzzled. 

"No, regular books. You've got those fancy leather bound books," Dean said, worried. "All color co-ordinated on the shelf."

"I promise not to get upset if he pulls some of my books off the shelf," Castiel said. He was not particularly attached to those books. He respected books, of course, but he was always more a figures and numbers person. He'd picked the books he had because they were generally recognized as the classics. He'd let the decorator who'd pulled the living room together for him arrange their actual location on the shelf and they were grouped by color, like a rainbow. Their orderly and symmetrical arrangement pleased him. 

So, they'd grabbed clothes, Castiel aware that he really wished for a shower at this moment, but Dean's anxiety about Sam infected him as well and he knew a shower wasn't going to happen until they'd determined that Sam had entertained himself in a benign manner, and until all of them had gotten a proper meal inside them all. For himself, Castiel was beginning to feel a little light-headed from lack of food. He couldn't imagine how Dean felt, with as few reserves as he must have. Castiel tossed Dean a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. Dean had to pull the draw string at the waist as tight as it would go and roll up the bottoms a time or two. He looked younger than ever after he pulled on the oversized t-shirt of Castiel's he'd been wearing earlier. 

When they went downstairs, the house was dark and quiet. They found Sam in the extra room off the kitchen, the one that Dean had called a family room. Sam had pulled every one of the white throw cushions off the sofas in the living room and piled them up on the floor, forming a kind of nest. He'd also grabbed both pillows and sets of blankets from the spare room that was now his, to add to this nest. 

Before they came across Sam in his nest in the family room though, Castiel was shocked to discover that the neat and orderly arrangement of the books in the two large living room book cases was completely destroyed. Colors were all mixed in with each other, books were not longer shelved by size, then hue. All the vases and statuettes, the decorative objects that had been scattered among the books for best effect, had been gathered together onto the top shelves of the cases. Castiel swallowed his irritation down hard, remembering his promise to his new wife not to get upset about the books, even though it bothered him really quite a lot that the books were out of their places now. He tried to tell himself that it didn't matter, but the truth was, he liked things just so. He had liked his shelves the way they had been. 

Back in the family room, Sam was cuddled up in the nest of pillows. He was thumbing his way through a rather nice, or what had been a rather nice leather bound edition of Kipling's "Just So Stories", but Castiel shuddered to think of what the pages looked like now. Because there was a box of fruity, brightly colored sugary cereal that Castiel had quite forgotten that he'd bought had spilled on the floor next to the next. Sam's hands were stained rainbow colors from the cereal and God alone knew how sticky they were. God knew what had happened to his throw pillows. Castiel forced himself to remain calm, thinking about his promise not to get mad at Sam. 

"I'm bored, Dean," Sam said. "He doesn't have a lot of good books and I couldn't find the ones he had. They were arranged by color! I fixed it."

Sam said this as if were the most stupid way in the world to arrange books.

"How did you rearrange them?" Castiel asked. He'd assumed the books had been just shoved back onto the shelf willy-nilly. 

"Like they do at the library," Sam said. "By the writer."

Sam had alphabetized his books. Castiel remembered what Dean had said about Sam being smart and getting bored. Castiel thought about how he'd only wanted one boy, how he thought that a second younger boy could only add complications to his life. How very true that was. Sam was sounding almost proud that he'd completely wrecked Castiel's careful arrangements. Clearly, they were going to have to find things to amuse Sam, keep him busy, until such time as he could be sent to school. Castiel looked out at the storm again, hoping it would have died down some, that they could get out. Instead, the weather had picked up even more, it seemed. He was stuck, trapped inside the house with the boys, who were still, essentially, strangers to him. 

"We'll discuss the arrangement of my books later. Maybe when the storm lifts, we can go to the bookstore and purchase you some books of your own. You may keep that one."

Castiel didn't think he could bear looking at the besmirched edition anyway. It wasn't that he much cared about the particular book, nor had it been particularly valuable. But it was messy now and the thought of putting it back on the shelf with the others made him shudder.

"Cas said he was going to make us food," Dean said.

"Right," he said, turning around to get a closer look at his kitchen. At least that wasn't too bad. The only thing out of place was the pile of boxes of cereal stacked next to the cabinet for them. And one partial box of cereal spilled, scattered all over the floor. Castiel sighed. 

 

***

Dean might not know Castiel very well, but the signs of someone about to lose it and trying very hard not to were pretty universal and they'd gotten more and more obvious with each and every sign of Sam's encroachment they'd come across. Castiel's eyes had flashed when they'd gone through the living room and he'd seen the books all busted out of that anal color code system he'd had. Castiel's jaw had clenched and a little muscle in the side of his face had popped up when he saw that Sam hand pulled off each and everyone of those perfect throw pillows off the sofa. In a way, it served him right, dragging Dean off to the bedroom, leaving Sammy alone in a strange house, hungry and with nothing to do. 

Castiel was also obviously trying very hard. He offered to buy Sam books, even as he was obviously pissed about how Sam probably had ruined not just the book, but probably the pile of throw pillows. When Castiel looked at the mess Sam had made in the kitchen proper, Dean said, "Tell me where your broom is. I'll get the floor. Sam will help."

Sam made the eyes, of course, tried to get out of helping. He wasn't near as helpless and frail as people, even Dean sometimes, thought he was. He made Sam wash his hands, then stack the cereal boxes all back into the cupboard where they'd come from while he cleaned up the pile of throw pillows in the empty room as best he could. Sam hadn't been as completely heedless as he could have been. Almost all of the cushions had been piled on and between two blankets and they'd been protected from crumbs and Sam's sticky hands, so they were just crumpled, not at all ruined. Dean tried to arrange them neatly on the sofa again and in no way could get them to form the neat little peaks on each corner with the chop in the middle, but he did his best. Sam tried to help and made things worse, shaking the pillows and punching them to try and get them to fluff up again. 

"I don't see why he's so mad," Sam complained out in the living room. "I made his books better. They were stupid that way."

"He liked 'em that way, so you shoulda left them," Dean said, patiently. 

"They were stupid," Sam said, sulkily. "I don't like it here. I don't like that guy. He's mean and you're taking his side. I want to go back to the home."

The Home. Not home. They didn't have a home. Or rather, the only home they'd ever known was the Impala and she'd been destroyed, gone in a ball of flame while they'd stared helplessly by the side of the road. No, Sam was saying he'd rather go back to the pea green hallways and dorm rooms of the orphanage. 

"Well, you can't," Dean snapped. "You're stuck with me and I'm stuck with Cas. He's my mate."

Sam just threw the throw pillows he was carrying onto the sofa any old way and then stalked upstairs. Dean didn't try and go after him. He'd cool down in a little while. Sam had always had a temper and since Dad died his anger had gotten worse. If Dean tried to talk about it now, Sam wouldn't listen. He'd just lash out. Instead, Dean went into the kitchen. 

It wasn't that Castiel was struggling in the kitchen. He was just very slow. He did one task at a time, methodically. He was slowly cooking onions at the stove. He already had a small dish of cooked green peppers and another of red peppers. There was a small pile of grated cheese and a box of eggs on the counter too. 

"Let me help you," Dean said. "I'm not any good at karate chopping pillows, but I had home ec classes in most of the schools I went to before Dad died. I can do a pretty good omelet."

"I didn't..."

"I know. I'm not here to be your maid, but you made me your wife, that means you get the full package deal," Dean said. 

Dean actually liked cooking, not that he'd gotten much chance to do it outside of his classes. Mostly he just liked eating and cooking classes in school had been his best chance to eat good cooking. He didn't even mind that it was something that he was supposed to have learned to make him a better Omega, a better little wife for some Alpha. Dean looked in the fridge, to see if Castiel had more cheese and he was surprised by how pristine it looked. There were a handful of individually wrapped chicken breasts, a few bags of pre-washed, bagged lettuce, a few more of the red and green peppers, a small container of milk, one partially used bottle of dressing, and a neatly wrapped, small block of cheese. Nothing else. It looked like Castiel also had a little butter, out on the counter already with the eggs. Did Castiel eat a salad with cooked chicken breast every single night or something?

"We need to go to the store," Dean said. 

"I just went," Castiel said.

"We need to go," Dean said. "This isn't food. This is punishment. It's so boring."

Then he got to work. He found that otherwise, Castiel was as well stocked as he could be. There was flour and with eggs and milk, that meant pancakes. Dean dug around looking for something he could put on the pancakes and there wasn't syrup, not even jelly in the fridge. He found a dusty jar of strawberry jam that had sat in a cabinet unopened and that would have to be good enough. Dean got absorbed in the work, happily frying up pancakes, keeping them warm in the oven. He'd always been happiest when working with his hands and cooking was close enough to that. He liked the thought that he was making something good for Sam, taking care of him. He'd always did the best he could, cooking on hot plates and in the cramped, inadequate kitchenettes of the multitude of motel rooms they stayed in over the years. This was the first chance he'd had to cook since the accident, he thought. Then he thought he'd be torn up about that thought, because of Dad, but he wasn't, not as badly as he thought, because he only had to stiffle a sniff or two. 

"Dean, is anything the matter?" Castiel asked. He had gotten out of Dean's way, other than making coffee. He was standing next to the island, drinking some.

"No, I'm fine," Dean said as broke some eggs into a bowl, deciding at the last minute to make a frittata rather than individual omelets. A lot less fussy, lot less work. It was just a minute more and he had everything in a baking dish and into the oven, the pancakes set aside under a clean dish towel. 

"You were smiling a moment ago, for the first time that I had seen. Then you weren't any more."

"I'm fine," Dean insisted. He wasn't about to open up like some chick, even if the guy was his Alpha. Mate or not, Dean wasn't about to admit any vulnerability to him. It was bad enough being held so close during the times they were tied together. 

Dean tried to think positively about everything. Really, it wasn't so bad here. Nowhere near as bad as the orphanage and Castiel was strange and stiff but Sam's pouts notwithstanding, he wasn't mean or anything like that. At first, Dean had thought Castiel was cold and emotionless, like a Vulcan on Star Trek, but the last twenty-four hours with the man, spent mostly in bed, had shown Dean otherwise. Yeah, the guy was still messed up, but the emotionless surface hid a massive storm of emotion buried just underneath. Anyway, like it or not, they were mates now, therefore, family. 

Dean thought about just how many of the past twenty-four hours had been spent with Castiel's knot deep inside him and he felt his pussy start to drip, felt the tingle of arousal. He wanted to get back into bed with his mate. Maybe he'd let Castiel suck on his tits again. There was, finally, milk in them again. He could feel them grow heavy, filling up. Too much longer and they'd get engorged, but if he let Sam nurse before eating, the boy wouldn't eat any solid food most likely. Then he saw Castiel pour himself another cup of coffee.

"You want any milk with that coffee?" Dean asked.

"I don't," Castiel started, but then he saw how Dean was pulling up his shirt and putting a hand on his breast. He passed his coffee over to Dean, who expertly expressed a few squirts of milk from his tit, just enough that the black coffee turned a medium tan. It wasn't enough though. His breasts were still too full. He looked to his mate, hoped that the man would read the implicit question in that look. He did. Castiel approached. 

"We've got fifteen minutes before the timer goes off," Dean said as Castiel put his mouth on his left nipple and startled suckling. 

The feeling was electrical, connected right to his pussy, especially as Castiel lifted his mouth off and said, in his gravel and honey whiskey voice, "You love this. Such a slut."

"Only you make me feel this," Dean said, breathlessly, pushing Cas back to his breast. 

They were both pupils blown, sex stupid and gasping for breath when the timer rang.

"Food," Dean said, pulling himself out of Castiel's arms. "Frittata."

Castiel relinquished Dean and started to pull himself together. "We'll have food, then go back to bed," he said. "Your brother can tear the whole house apart so long as I can have you again."

***

Castiel woke, startled by the still unfamiliar weight of another body in bed with him. Then he remembered with a smile. Dean. His new spouse. His mate. 

Yesterday had been spent mostly in bed with his new wife, knot sunk deep into Dean's pussy. There had been breaks for food and for Dean to take care of Sam. Then once, for Castiel to take the television from his bedroom, where he never watched it anyways, and move it to Sam's bedroom, temporarily. It would go into the family room, once they'd bought furniture for it. The television and the chance to take more books out of the living room shelves had ameliorated Sam a little, though he obviously still resented Castiel's new and important place in Dean's life, resented that Castiel was taking what Sam had always thought of as his alone- Dean's milk. 

Castiel wondered how long younger siblings usually nursed on their Omega siblings breasts, when Sam might be persuaded to give it up. Castiel had no idea of what was considered normal. His family had no Omegas, despite it's size. All of his brothers were Alphas, like himself, all his sisters Betas, except Anna, who was a rare and exceptional Alpha female. His mother must have nursed him as a baby, for a little while at least, until Uriel had come along, but he had no memory of it. He'd always thought that was why he'd eroticized what should have been an entirely innocent thing- he'd never experienced it that way, just looked on with envy at others doing it. There was no need to be envious of Sam though. Dean had been more than generous to them both and had eagerly allowed Castiel to suckle as much as he wanted and denied Sam only to the extent that the boy needed to eat at lest some actual food. 

He grew stiff thinking about Dean's milky breasts and he scooted himself closer to Dean, to grab an handful of tit, and to grind his erection against Dean's backside, but he was shocked to see that there was a third, previously unnoticed occupant to the bed- Sam. Castiel shrank back, as if from a burning hot surface, his erection wilted immediately. They were both sound asleep but it was clear from their relative positions that Sam had come into their bed to nurse from Dean. His head was at the same level as Dean's chest and his face was pressed into Dean's tits. 

Castiel laid still after that, but his earlier motion had woken Dean, who immediately shook Sam, saying, "Damn it, Sam. You promised you wouldn't fall asleep in here. Get up."

Sam was not a graceful morning person. He groused and whining wordlessly as Dean hustled him from their bedroom. Dean was gone several minutes and Castiel jealously pictured them nursing in Sam's bedroom. As he waited for Dean to return to the bedroom, Castiel got out of bed, looked out the window down the street. Everything was covered in heaps of glittery, marshmallow fluff snow, pure sparkling white most places, though the banks thrown up by street plowing were sullied, black and gray, with road dirt and salt. Still, the winter storm was over and assuming he could dig his driveway out without too much trouble, they were no longer trapped in the house. 

He could return to work this morning, but he remembered the words of his boss about not returning until after Christmas. It was only a few more days to the holiday and Castiel rather thought he would use them to get better acquainted with his new mate. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of Dean in his bed. He thought of Dean making a mess in his kitchen but producing delicious meals, of milking Dean's sweet little tits and of Dean eagerly spreading his legs, allowing Castiel access to his hot, wet pussy. If putting up with the chaos that seemed to spread from the Winchester boys meant he had those things, he thought it was worth it. 

He'd always hated those throw pillows anyway. 

Castiel got himself out of bed and pulled some pajamas on. Thought about not bothering with his robe, but some habits were hard to break, so he pulled it on. He walked across the hallway to find his two new boys in Sam's room. Sam was in Dean's arms, nursing, his eyes closed in bliss as his mouth moved, pulling the milk from Dean. Dean looked, for the moment, happy and content. Though Castiel could feel the stirrings of envy and he wanted to be where Sam was right at this moment, he could feel glad that his mate was happy. 

"You make my whole life messy," he said after several long minutes of enjoying his mate's happiness. 

"It's how life is," Dean said. 

"Not my life. Until now," Castiel said. "Or at least not my adult life. My childhood was...very messy. I thought I wanted something different than that in my life. I think maybe I might have gone too much to the other extreme."

Dean looked at him like he'd said the most obvious thing on the planet. As if he was saying, 'ya think?'

"Well, I'm going to shower," Castiel said. "Perhaps we could go to the bookstore later today. The streets are clear. Maybe buy some furniture for the family room."

"Wait," Dean said, as Castiel walked away. Then he watched another one of those wordless conversations between Sam and Dean, could almost see Dean asking Sam to leave off nursing. Another spate of jealousy hit him, but he realized it'd always be like this. There would always be a special bond between the two of them, and that was fine. It was especially fine when he realized why Dean wanted Sam to leave off. Dean said, "I gotta shower too. You wouldn't mind sharing, would you?"

"I'd like that," Castiel said.

***

 

Later, much later, when they were leaving the bookstore with a big pile of books for Sam, and even at his insistence, a few for Dean, it started to snow again, not like the storm of the day before, just a light shower of fluttering, drifting flakes that gathered lightly on their coats. Castiel thought Dean looked enchanting with the snowflakes frosting his hair with white. Then a moment later, as he unlocked the car, he was pelted by snowballs from two different sides, followed by whooping laughter. Even though the snow got under his collar and melted down the back of his neck, icy cold, he couldn't help but laugh a little too. Those two, they made his life messy, but they'd also, in just a few days, made it bigger somehow, less restricted. He could breathe easier.

Then Sam caught sight of a Christmas tree lot just the other side of the parking lot and he asked, "Can we get a Christmas tree?"

Castiel had never gotten a tree on his own. It had never seemed worth the bother. He went to church on the holiday, of course and most years, he spent the day hovering on the edge of some other family's celebration, an invited guest, but not truly part of the proceedings. He thought of the trees he remembered from childhood, dropped needles, the pricking of his hands as he hung ornaments, the arguments about who got to hang which treasured ornament and where it should be hung. Trees were messy, in more ways than one. He was inclined to tell Sam an automatic no, then he looked at the shining hopefulness in Sam's eyes as he looked at the rows of trees dusted with white in the lot. Dean hung back, mouth shut, guarded look in his eyes, as if he was expecting an answer of no, as if he were disappointed already. Castiel had grown, in a short time, to hate that look of disappointment that always quick to snap down on Dean's lovely face. It was such a little thing, wasn't it and why should he disappoint his Omega if it would be easy enough not to. 

"I don't see why we couldn't," Castiel said. "But I don't have any ornaments or anything. It will be a very bare tree."

"We'll make do," Dean said. "We're good at that."

"No, we won't make do," Castiel said, decisively. "We'll buy decorations. There is more than enough money that my Omega and his brother, my family, doesn't have to make do."

Hours later, Sam had gone to bed long ago. Castiel laid on his back, naked as the day he'd been born, Dean on top of him. They were tied together still, having made love on the floor underneath the Christmas tree. A few stray needles pricked into the sensitive skin of his buttocks, but he didn't care. Dean was enchanting, a very satisfied grin on his face and Castiel was pleased to have been the one to put it there. The tree was certainly...festive. They'd let Sam pick out the tree and decorations. He'd gone for the biggest tree Castiel would allow and it brushed up against the ceiling of the family room. He'd bought very few actual ornaments but had gone in for lights and tinsel in a big way. Not the orderly kind strung onto a garland, but the kind that was scattered on the tree in big, shiny handfuls. More than a few handfuls had made their way to the carpet rather than the tree. 

"So, have I provided relief for your unbearable urges?" Dean asked, squeezing his internal muscles around Castiel's knot and milking just a last little bit of come out.

Castiel couldn't help the exhale he made at the pleasure of it. "On the contrary," he said, when he could talk. "The more I have you, the more I desire you. I do not believe my urges for you will ever subside. It's messy, but very, very satisfying."

 

***

Normally, Sam would take the bus home from school, but since Castiel had left his work early that day in order to take Dean to a doctor's appointment, it had only made sense for Castiel to swing by Sam's school and pick him up. The little Omega had been hauling a back pack that seemed nearly as large as he did. He grunted as he swung it into the back seat of Castiel's car, then took his place in the front. 

"How was your day, Sam?"

Sam huffed, as if he was about to get, what the name that Dean called this mood? Pissy, yes, that was it, Castiel thought. Castiel smiled bravely at the moody little Omega, determined to be pleasant, not for the child's sake, but for Dean's. Probably they would not have even liked each other, him and Sam, but the both of them were devoted to the same person and most of the time, they got along for his sake. Castiel thought they were starting to along better, slowly. Sam seemed to remember himself, remember why Castiel was available to pick him up after school. 

"It was okay," Sam said. "I've got a ton of homework though. Are you sure Dean will be okay at the doctor's without me?"

"Dean will have to manage with just myself," Castiel said. "Are you sure you'll be fine by yourself at home?"

Castiel was proud of that. That he had provided a home for the two Omegas in his care. Not just a house and the necessities of life, but a real home. 

"I'm nearly twelve. I can stay home a couple of hours while you're just a phone call away," Sam fussed. "When Dean was..."

Sam stopped when he remembered how much Castiel didn't like to hear stories of just how long their late father had left them alone in hotel rooms and shoddy apartments for what was supposedly 'work' purposes. When Dean was twelve, their father had left them alone for days and days at a time. Whole weeks. Castiel hated to dishonor the memory of a man they both clearly loved deeply, but it upset him to hear how little that man had treasured the pair of them. 

"If I did not believe you to be responsible enough to remain home, I would not have suggested it," Castiel said. "If you need any assistance with your math homework, there should be plenty of time after I return with Dean."

"I can do it," Sam said, far too stubborn to admit he needed help.

Sam had proved himself to be a very able student in the short time he'd been enrolled in school, though he did struggle a little with the advanced placement algebra he'd been tracked into. 

"Not regretting letting them place you into the academic track, rather than Omega classes?" Castiel asked. Sam gave him a withering look. "I didn't think so."

They rode in silence for most of the rest of the way home, until about a block or so away, Sam asked, in a small, worried voice, "Is Dean going to be okay?"

Dean had been vomiting and nauseated for months now. His pseudo-pregnancy that had started after their first heat together had not yet ended. Castiel tried not to worry, but the most common cause of that, according to the medical books he'd consulted, was cancer. If Castiel was wrought at the thought of his young, new mate suffering that disease, then Sam could get frantic. 

"Your brother will be fine," Castiel said. "I'm sure there is a simple cause and cure for his ailments."

Once home, Sam tore out of the car and into the house as soon as Castiel had the car in park. By the time Castiel had retrieved Sam's heavily loaded backpack for him and entered the house, Sam and Dean were sprawled out together on the same recliner in the family room. Sam was trying, rather unsuccessfully, to talk Dean into letting him nurse for a little while before the doctor's appointment.

"I know, I'm sorry," Dean said, his arms crossed over his breasts. "They hurt today. I made pie today. Why don't you have some of that and we can spend time together when I get back from the doctors."

Castiel waited by the door for Dean to get out of the recliner and come to him. He looked around the family room. Hard to believe that less than four months ago, it had been, just as much as his heart had been, an empty room. Now there were a couple of ugly but comfortable recliners and a couch so overstuffed that Castiel feared you could lose small children and pets in it. It was a bit of a messy room, with piles of books and magazines here and there. There was even a big table with Dean's projects on it. Surprisingly, his Omega had turned out to have impressive mechanical and technical talents. Castiel was never quite sure what he was doing, but there was always some project Dean worked on when Castiel was at work. When he was able, that was. When he wasn't sick with this mystery ailment. 

It just took a moment for Dean to extricate himself from Sam and wrap himself in Castiel's arms. He laid his head on Castiel's shoulder. Dean had been so tired lately, another one of his symptoms. 

"Ready?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "Let's get this over with."

An hour and a half later, Dean was lying on an examination table as the doctor watched the ultrasound tech sweep her sensor over Dean's slightly rounded belly again, pausing to focus on the places the doctor indicated. The doctor looked puzzled, then astonished. 

Eventually, when Castiel did not think he could bear the tension a moment longer, the doctor spoke. She said, "Well, I can tell you the reason your pseudo-pregnancy won't end, Dean."

"Yeah?"

"It's not a pseudo-pregnancy. It's the real deal," she said. "Congratulations, Mr and Mr. Novak, you're going to be parents."

Dean spoke first, blurting out instantly, "Son of a bitch!"

Castiel just felt weak, like he was going to faint. The doctor seemed to expect this because she pushed her office chair over to him and helped him to sit down. When he'd put his head down between his legs for a moment, he felt slightly better. The doctor was talking to Dean, "Let me guess, when you were younger, some doctor poked and prodded you for a moment before pronouncing you were like the other ninety-ish percent of male Omegas and couldn't possibly get pregnant."

Dean nodded. 

"Your ovaries are a little shy. I couldn't get a good feel of them by a physical exam, but I saw them quite clearly on the ultrasound. You're one of the lucky ones."

"Peachy. One of the lucky ones," Dean said. His eyes seemed shiny, almost liquid. Castiel wasn't as familiar as he could be with his mate's every mood, but he could tell when he was about to cry. Before Castiel could say anything, Dean asked, "Is it too late? You know, to get rid..."

Castiel didn't let him finish. "Doctor, perhaps you could let me have a moment alone with my mate."

So they were left alone in the sparsely furnished office. Dean was shivering, probably from wearing nothing but the flimsy, backless hospital gown. Castiel wrapped the young Omega in his arms, insisting on holding him tightly. 

"Dean, do you really wish not to bear my child?" Castiel said. "Because I would not force you to do something you'd find abhorrent. I hope you know me better than that by now."

"I...You don't want children and I can't lose you, Cas," Dean said. "Not when you've let me hope..."

"Children are messy, aren't they?" Castiel said. "Complicated. Any new relationship is. You made my life far messier and complicated than I could have thought, but we've muddled through somehow. I admit to feeling some trepidation, but mostly, I am far happier than I could have imagined I'd be to hear this news. Not only are you not ill, you're carrying new life, Dean. The Bible tells us to be fruitful and multiply."

"But..."

"You taught me the necessity of complications sometimes," Castiel said. "I love you and I love every complication you bring to my life. So, are you hoping for an Alpha or an Omega first?"

"First?"

"Of course," Castiel said. "I do not believe we should have a family as large as the one I was born into, it's too easy for a child to get lost in the crowd, but our child should know what it is to be a brother."

"Yeah, for sure," Dean said and then they were kissing. Everything would be all right. No, better than all right. Life would be messier yet, but bigger and happier than he could have imagined back in December when he'd walked into quiet halls of a children's home and ended up shaking up his whole life. Much happier.


End file.
